


He Calls Himself Pride

by Eraharel (RabbitGoddess)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Arlathan, Elvhenan, Evanuris, F/M, Fen'Harel - Freeform, Major Spoilers, Non-Inquisitor - Freeform, Solas - Freeform, Solavellan, Spoilers, solas/lavellan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:29:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6065626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RabbitGoddess/pseuds/Eraharel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the Tevinter Imperium, before the Humans began to spread all across Thedas, Elvhenan was the only empire standing. When the Evanuris began to rule, and fought to keep the Forgotten Ones at bay, all the cities rested easy. But, when the warring began to be against themselves, all knew there was an even greater storm to come - only Fen'Harel, the trickster, was free to walk where he pleased, never interfering. Still, something drove him to create the Veil and seal the Elven Gods away, at the abyss of the Fade. Was vengeance for Mythal the only reason?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Arlathan Still Stood

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lethallin!  
> So, in this story the main OTP is Solas/Lavellan, but Lavellan's clan has a different name since Clan Lavellan didn't exist at the time of old Arlathan. Still, it's the same character, and I tried to minimize her (and her family's) description, so each one can imagine their own Lavellan <3 Hope you enjoy!

As the parade passed thorough, the crowd cheered. The generals – soon to be kings and queens, she heard – had just returned from battle, successful as ever. Even with all the noise, Aeryn could hear their thanks, almost feel their gratitude. Ears pointing up, and all the heroes smiled, pleased to be back home.

All but one.

The younger man, at the back of the line, kept looking down all the time. She had heard of him before, he was the only gifted with magic who had not been born in nobility, and appeared it was still an issue for some, though not many. The brown dreadlocks fell down his shrunken back, but no one else seemed to notice.

When an older woman, with brown hair and tanned skin, passed through him and patted his back, the young general looked a little less… Frozen. His dark-grey eyes raised from the ground and faced every citizen properly. Even her.

Aeryn felt as if there was cold water running down her spine. Every other elf was too thrilled with the recent victory to give a damn, but there was something very wrong about that man.

Finally, all the leaders had entered the Cathedral, at the heart of Arlathan. The people, nobility or not, was left with nothing to do, except return to their own lives. So did she; her clan would be part of the later festivities, with the entire city’s Council.

___

“Da’len” her mother’s voice was soft as a blanket, and in the cold night, a blanket could be useful “Why aren’t you ready to go?”

In her room, Aeryn tried to think about an excuse to stay. She did like to go out – mainly when Gerian joined her – but, at the time being, she couldn’t care less about politics. The great banquet would be all about that; Hahrens about to begin their Uthenera, and the younglings, such as herself, carefully studied and observed throughout the evening, where the Elder would choose the next leaders.

She had no interest in making an appeal for them – leadership didn’t fit her – and couldn’t care less about who would lead from now on. Even though, her family _would_ like to have someone in the Council.

“I have brothers and sisters. You can take them.” Aeryn tried to sound calm and condescending, but it was hard.

“I _will_ take them, dearest.” The smile in Shavra’s face was like looking at the sun – too bright. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be going, too.”

Aeryn exhaled soundly.

“Do I really have to?” and there it was, the girl stealing the place of the woman.

Shavra got up and walked to the door.

“Please, Da’len, we’re leaving soon. We’ll be waiting for you downstairs” so she left, not giving much of a choice.

For being a hunter, all of Aeryn’s clothing would have a piece of armor in it, but that didn’t make her dresses any less pretty. She liked to show her legs – one of her highest points – and arms, disregarding the winter; it wasn’t as if cold would bother an Elvhen. The gold and other jewelry were also part of Arlathan’s traditional vesture. Her pierced ears would always appear through the hair, and it was normal back then.

At the time she was ready, the moon had long since risen. Now, all to be done is wonder what the night has in store.

___

It was a large balcony, lighted with candles and a big fire pit, in the center. Everyone who attended was awfully well-dressed, and the song that played was loud and cheerful, mixing with conversations and multiple laughter. Gerian joined her by the railing, being just the company that she needed.

“Mama says that each one of the heroes will gain a city of their own. Can you believe that? A _whole city!_ ”

“Creators, what’s next? Godhood?” she laughed, and Gerian agreed. Clearly, he had a bad time telling sarcasm from honesty.

“Aren’t you hungry? I could go fetch something.”

“That would be nice, Gerian. Thanks.” And so he smiled and walked away, leaving Aeryn to her own thoughts.

She was going to turn around when the voice of one of the Hahrens tumbled, silencing everyone. He was the oldest of his generation – wise and experienced. No one dared to even speak in his presence.

“Lethallan” he began, looking down to some women. “Lethallin. Today, we’ve regained some of our best warriors, men and women. Today, they’ve came with news of victory. And, today, we shall thank them. This feast is more than pure celebration; it’s a way to show our most sincere gratitude. Uthenera waits for us, but fear not – the long sleep will not leave the awaken unattended.” And so he became silent again, just when the door behind him opened slowly. From there, the nine generals came, head and eyes pointing forward.

 _Even heroes have their time to mingle, I suppose,_ she thought with a smile. With the corner of the eye, she spied on them. All wore armors, and even with all the joy, they seemed strangely serious.

Again, all but one.

He was different than earlier. Where he once stood shy and quiet, now was a self-confident and outgoing man. A diadem with the skull of some small animal decorated the fair skin in the forehead, and the eyes were clearer than before. They were almost blue now.

She didn’t dare to look for too long, though. Gerian was already back.

“I wonder what he meant when said that we wouldn’t be left unattended” he commented, taking a quick sip of his ale.

Aeryn didn’t answer. For a brief moment, she felt like if she was back hunting. Felt the coldness in her blood, the sharpness in her muscles, the anxiety, the thrill. But it was different that time. It was almost like…

_Like I am the prey._


	2. In Both Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Solas firstly introduced himself to Lavellan.

A careless whisp, in the colors blue and green, touched her on the right shoulder, taking her attention elsewhere. The night, young as it is, lasted more than she had expected. And, as always, Gerian didn’t fail to show every guest how terrible he was at holding his ale. Soon, they had to sit or he would fall down just by standing.

“I’m sorry for this.” He tried to apologize, even if his voice just sounded like a growl. Aeryn laughed.

“Maybe you should go home. Get some rest.” She smiled, straightening her back and crossing legs.

“What about you?”

“I still have to wait for my family to go. Don’t worry, I’ll hardly be alone.”

Gerian sighed, but agreed.

“I go visit you soon.” He said, and left.

Aeryn walked around for some time, feeling the cool of the wind against her face, and the beautiful city way down. The trees grew twisted, carving spirals in the wood. The buildings were all in white marble, and, far away, so was the Castle. When she got near an arch made of leaves and flowers, someone spoke to her.

“Da’len?” the voice was low, soft and grave. She turned to face whoever it was, expecting some distant cousin or uncle, but found something else completely.

The man with the dreadlocks stood at her side, with an easygoing expression and loosen body. She tried not to shrink. Instead, rose her posture to face him as an equal – even if they were all but equals.

“Yes?” She too, managed to keep her voice calm and low.

“I’m sorry, I noticed your friend has just left, and thought you might do well with some company.”

She didn’t expect that.

“Oh, thank you, sir…?” Aeryn felt her face and ears become red when realized – she didn’t even know his name. One of the heroes who kept The Forgotten Ones at bay. The shame was unmeasurable. “Hahren.”

And, at the slightest of moments, she thought to have seen a quick smile cross his face.

“You don’t know the name of the mighty hero that keeps you safe?”

She felt like laughing.

“Was that supposed to be a hint?”

It was no longer a nuance, but a full smile. Small dimples pierced his cheeks, and his eyes were sharper now.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” He bowed slightly, and so did she. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“I could not think of a more proper name.” it was intended to be just a thought, but Solas didn’t seem to bother with her comment.

“I trust you’re enjoying the evening?”

“Indeed, I am. A most pleasant event.” She couldn’t help but be sarcastic. Aeryn regretted it immediately, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Such manners.” He propped himself at the railing, straightening his eyes and bending his head to the right. “Or was that sarcasm?”

“I’m sorry. I had no intention to–”

“I’m not offended, if that’s what you were going to say. The deer always falters when near a wolf – and yet, you didn’t.”

She smiled, taking her eyes somewhere else.

“So I’m the deer?” Aeryn crossed arms, trying to hold back the smile that began to show “Presumably, you’re the wolf.”

Solas laughed to himself.

“Such is the way of things.”

“Then I should be quiet. I never heard of a deer that teased the wolf and lived.”

“You’re an exception.” The answer was quick, and after, none said a word.

The wind howled in the distance. There were at least fifty things she would like to ask – Had him seen humans? Talked to them? What happened in the battle? Was the war won? – but Aeryn stayed silent. Even with the jokes, something about him kept going through her head, warning her to leave. Like if it wasn’t safe.

She managed to keep her own mind quiet about the matter, and so, tried to loosen herself as well.

Aeryn was ready to begin another topic of conversation – one that wasn’t weird – but her mother’s voice drew her attention somewhere else.

“Da’len” said Shavra, walking her way. With the corner of the eye, she saw Solas standing straight, the arms at his back and the expression becoming more serious. “We’re going now.”

“Oh.” It was all she could have said. Didn’t complain, didn’t protest, but was secretly hoping for a chance to say goodbye. She did not need it, though.

“It was a pleasure, Lady Aeryn. I hope, soon, we’ll have the chance of talking again.” And so he bowed and left, as sudden as he came.

Her mother didn’t dare to ask. Once he was far, both the women exited the great balcony, walking to the carriage that waited outside. The starless night was beautiful in its own way, and before she entered the vehicle, Aeryn took a look at the trees. All of them were impeccably green, even with the cold winter’s drift ravaging every once in a while.

She sat at Shavra’s side, looking distracted through the open window, and then noticed; Aeryn didn’t say her name at any time during the talk.


	3. Nothing He Hath Wrought Shall be Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the hunt, an invitation for Aeryn and her family.

In the final weeks that marked winter, Aeryn spent most of her time on the hunt. Gerian would occasionally join her – even if he was a disaster at subterfuge – and all of her attention would be pointed on the way of her new prey.

With the incoming spring, much more animals could be found. And, at that particular day, a black wolf had crossed paths with her.

“Are you sure about this?” Gerian’s voice sounded steeped in fear and anxiety. He normally liked to go after small, harmless things, such as hares and badgers. Nothing that would put on much of a fight, but a wolf would take days to track down.

“What are you so afraid of?” her knees were on the ground as she tried to pick up the wolf’s trail. “It’s just a wolf.”

“There could be more. They might be watching us _right now_.” He had tightened his grip on the bow, looking around frightened.

“You can go home, if you like. I’m catching that beast.” She got up and continued walking. Gerian didn’t take much longer to follow.

“It’s getting dark. Maybe we can–”  

Aeryn took her pointing finger to her lips, asking for silence. At first, Gerian thought she had caught the trail, or simply found something important. Soon he realized, she just didn’t want to hear him complaining anymore.

And then, they reached a dead end, when the trail led to an incredibly large river. With the night beginning to fall, they would have to continue with the hunt another day.

___

At night, Aeryn stayed in her room. The lack of sleep wasn’t an issue, far from it. When insomnia found her, she just redirected her time at doing something else. Shavra would always bring her books with loads of lore about language, mathematics, physics and conversion of matter to make it mutable.

So she stayed, all night long, studying everything she didn’t know already; and, at the glimpse of a moment, she thought of Solas.

His brown dreadlocks over his shoulders, the vivid blue eyes, the impeccable posture – even the way he pronounced words, it came all back to her head. She thought of how she didn’t have heard any news from him since the celebration event, and of how they hadn’t spoken after.

Part of her wondered what he might be doing right then. He could be training, sleeping, going out or studying, just like her. Remembering him made Aeryn want to meet again. But, for the time being, she could just as well focus on something else.

By the morning, Shavra brought her tea and little oiled pumpkins with vinegar, for breakfast. Aeryn would always enjoy having tea by the morning – made her more vigorous and alert – and, besides, her mother’s tea was simply _divine._

Soon, she couldn’t stand being at her room anymore, and so, decided to go to the city – there, she would be able to visit the multiple galleries and temples, and have the great privilege of seeing other elves. For belonging to a large household, Aeryn’s clan lived in the wilds in something that reminded a feud. It was smaller than one, of course, but her family still was one of the vastest in all Elvhenan’s territory.

Aeryn asked for her oldest sister – Nesiris – to join her. Nesiris, in her way, also enjoyed visiting Arlathan. Their family was particularly influential in there, and, as the elder child, Nesiris would have to be noticeable. She would always be the first option for everything – applying the Council; entering the Academy of the Arcane; even her word was preferable to the word of her siblings, which included Aeryn.

Getting there, the first thing both noticed was the great many people that permeated the squares and parks.

“Where did _they_ come from?” Nesiris sounded a little stingy when said things like that, but she really didn’t mean it. Aeryn laughed, getting closer to her sister – with so many elves, they would get separated in no time.

“I heard most of them came from Halamshiral.” She answered, looking around. The foreign people wore different outfits from the ones used in Arlathan. With lots of fur and feathers, the ones from Halamshiral had a more savage way of clothing. Aeryn found it exotic and interesting. Nesiris hated it.

“I wonder how many birds that man killed to have such pants.” They both laughed with the image.

“Look at you, being a shallow little noble-girl from the Outskirts.” Aeryn wasn’t the one to say that, but an elf-man with black hair and big eyes. He was a friend of Nesiris, and worked as an apprentice from the ones at the Council. Aeryn remembered him – he would periodically come to their house to deliver invitations to parties and dinners. Nesiris always blushed whenever he bowed before her. That time was no different.

“The only one from the Outskirts here is you, Verel.” Nesiris crossed arms and looked someplace else, feigning anger. Aeryn coughed.

“It’s lovely to meet you again, Lady Aeryn. And you, Lady Nesiris.” He smiled sweetly, the eyes stretching. Aeryn smiled back. Nesiris rolled eyes.

“Do you need anything, Verel?” she said.

“Actually, I just came to you to deliver this invitation.” He responded, giving a small piece of paper to Aeryn. “I hope all your family can attend.”

When he walked away, both the women spied on the card. Under surveillance, none would have, but the curiosity spoke louder. Aeryn was the first to read, making it out loud so Nesiris would know what it was all about.

“Ahem– ‘We come hereby this letter to notify all of the clan Ashivera whose presence has been requested at the Grand Coronation. The festivities shall happen on a fortnight, where the ascending of our new kings and queens will make for a celebration that will last for days and nights of music, feasts and dancing.’” Aeryn reached out to her sister, who seemed as speechless as herself.

“Oh, Creators.” Nesiris said, a few moments later. “Oh, _Creators!_ We’re going to a ball! Oh my, there’ll be princes and lords and nobles and…” she chuckled, blushing.

“And Verel?” Aeryn suggested, already knowing the answer.

“Don’t be foolish, girl” Nesiris reprehended, looking less angry than she should. “He is just an apprentice, nothing else.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” She giggled, walking away.

Even if it didn’t seem, Aeryn _was_ excited, at her own way. The ball _would be_ magnificent, and there were no reasons for her not to enjoy herself. Besides, she would see Solas again. Deep inside, she knew she didn’t need any other reason, but if anyone else asked, she would answer as Nesiris did.

_There will be princes and lords and nobles and…_

Well, and _him_.


	4. Trial by Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ball and another meeting.

The blue and golden tapestry fell from the multiple arches and girders, with matching violet curtains overlaying windows and walls. In the center, a great ballroom full of elegant people spread tunes of all kinds, from drums to lutes and flutes. The chatting was low and pleasant – like soft murmurs heard in the distance.

In that event, Aeryn happened to find everything _indeed_ pleasuring. The food tasted good, and every dancing partner until the moment had been awfully kind to her. Even the smell was agreeable – lilies and juniper, she’d describe. Over an altar, nine exceedingly decorated thrones sat each one different from the previous, all empty. The last, following to the left, was her favorite; not because it was the most elegant or refined, but because, by far, looked like the most comfortable one.

“I thought she’d never let me go!” Gerian’s complaining brought her back to reality, on the other side of the room. He had been dancing with some old ant of his all night long, and now was the time to hear all about it. “Creators, she stepped on my toes a thousand times!”

“It’s the price you pay for having such cute little hair.” She giggled, taking a sip of her wine. Was sweet and strong – just how she liked it.

“My hair is not cute!” Gerian blushed, passing his hand through his head. “It’s _very manly!”_

“Your mom told you that?” she laughed even louder, trying to keep it down.

“Silence, fool, your boyfriend is about to enter.”

“My…?” she questioned, wondering who he might be talking about. “Oh. You heard.”

“Yes, I heard that the brave king came to share his graces with you in the last event. He _barely_ waited me for leave!”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Gerian. He was just being nice.”

“I know that type. Got power all over his head, I tell you. Bet he just wanted to talk you out of your pants.”

“ _Gerian!_ ” she cried, pushing him with the elbow. “What is _wrong_ with you, why’d you say that?”

“I’m just looking out for my friend, excuse me! I mean, think, what kind of man would talk to some-lady he’s never seen before?”

“People can be polite, but it’s not like you know how it feels.” She felt a little disappointed with what Gerian said – and a little concerned his words might actually be speaking the truth – and so decided to walk alone. She’s had enough of that conversation.

Pacing around the tables and chairs, an announcement began. Every soul in that hall became silent and stood still. So did she.

The one to give the words was Verel, the apprentice.

“Ladies and gentlemen. First, it’s my duty to inform that we are all so happy that you could attend this gathering, after all, it isn’t every day we celebrate a Grand Coronation.” Aeryn felt that was supposed to be a joke. A few old men laughed, coughing afterwards. “As you well know, these brave heroes risked their lives to keep us safe, and so, we rewarded them with land and titles all across Elvhenan, as a gift for our gratitude.”

At the other side of the hall, a silver door opened, and from there, the mighty heroes came – the ones made kings and queens.

The scene was all too familiar – they walked in, all honorable and great, in a straight line, beginning to elder to younger. It didn’t take long to find Solas, he was the last. For the ounce of a moment, her legs shook. He wore a golden armor with a pelt cloak over his right shoulder. The hair was no longer locked away in dreadlocks, but cut loose; it was straight and long, with both head sides shaved, showing off the old bone crown from before. In there, he seemed all strong and powerful, but remembering him in the other night made that image disappear.

They all marched full of themselves to where the thrones stood, and, when each one was in front of their own, they sat. Verel spoke again, announcing their names from the right to left.

“Elgar’nan, of Vengeance. Mythal, of Protection. Falon’Din, the Guide. Dirthamen, of Secrets. Andruil, of the Hunt. Sylaise, the Hearthkeeper. June, of the Craft. Ghilan’nain, of the Halla, and—” He swallowed before continuing, looking with the corner of the eye. “Fen’Harel, of the Rebellion.”

Low mutter began to wash over every guest, startled with the youngster’s newest title. Aeryn chuckled to herself. While everyone disapproved and commented about it, Solas sat on his throne, feigning ignorance. His face carved out all the pride he was feeling, and, sadly, only Aeryn seemed to have understood it.

_Trickster…_ She remained with a smile in her face, looking at him directly - _that’s what it means._

Once the announcement was over, the music started again and even the new nobility could join the others. Most of them stood together, but of course, there was a few wandering sheep.

She walked over an opened door that led to one of the balconies. Aeryn had no intention to enter – although wouldn’t complain to have some fresh air. In a short time, someone called out to her. Someone she _definitely_ wasn’t expecting.

“Da’len.” The words were the same from before, but the lips to say it were someone else’s.

Part of her turned around already excited – she had indeed came to meet Solas again –, but to notice that wasn’t him, the delusion became clear as day for anyone to see.

A man with mocha skin, shining blue eyes and white hair was speaking. A squared face showed he was no longer that young and his forehead had this flaming tattoo, striking her with surprise. His armor was also golden – as it was every other armor, she soon noticed – but instead of pelts, he wore magicians clothing, even carrying a staff on his back. June, she believed it was his name.

Aeryn smiled and bowed shortly, trying to be as polite as she could – which wasn’t much.

“Can I help you, Your Grace?”

“ _Your Grace_ …” he repeated, attempting to hide a smile. “It’s still early for that. You can call me June.”

She laughed lowly.

“Can I help you, June?”

“You were at the other event, weren’t you? I take you’re also nobility?”

“My family does own a large piece of land, a few miles from Arlathan, but I hardly think _anyone_ in here is truly from nobility.” She said, almost pointing at one of the buffet tables. Two ladies chatted aloud and laughed without bothering with lingering looks and whispers about them.

June laughed as well.

“That’s an _excellent_ point, my Lady.”

“You can call me Aeryn, if it pleases.”

“She is also great at making sarcastic commentaries, you’ll find it.” Now, _that_ voice, she knew. Solas.

“Fen’Harel.” June greeted politely, and so Aeryn noticed, not with his proper name. She presumed that _June_ itself mustn’t be his true name as well, making her wonder which was.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. It has been some time since I lastly spoke with Lady Aeryn. Thought to come and say hi.”

“You don’t have to worry, I am pretty sure Sylaise is looking for me. Such spirit, that woman.” He laughed, turning to talk to Aeryn. “It was indeed a pleasure meeting you, my Lady. I pray we meet again, someday.” So he bowed and left.

“I began to suspect you weren’t coming talk to me.” She fought not to smile, but it was in vain. Solas smiled as well.

“Hardly. I must say, Lady Aeryn, you look quite stunning tonight.”

“So _that’s_ why!”

Solas chuckled, his expression softening.

“And she goes on with the teasing.”

“How did you know my name?” the question was abrupt and seemed to have popped out of thin air, but he – once again – didn’t seem to bother.

“You told me.”

“I did not. Are you trying to _trick_ me, _Trickster?_ ”

He looked elsewhere, the smile still showing.

“I asked before coming to you. How about that?”

“Sounds more believable.” She giggled lightly, accompanying him with his eyes. “I expect you’re never really telling me the real tale, then?”

“We shall see.”

 “How does it feel to be king?” the first serious thing she said to him since the conversation began.

“Until now, is just a title. I’m still Solas, after all.”

“Yet, you share yourself with Fen’Harel. Not everyone can say the same.”

“Fen’Harel is also a title. I intend to use it to—” the pause wasn’t because he was thinking about what to answer. To Aeryn’s eyes, Solas seemed to wonder whether or not he should tell her. “Change things.”

There was no point in pushing that topic; he clearly wasn’t going to be more open about it. She quickly tried to think about something else, when he turned to her and bowed, extending his hand.

“Come. Before the band stops playing, dance with me.”

Aeryn was astonished at first – there she was, standing still while a _king_ asked her to dance. Oh, if Nesiris was only there to see. Then she giggled, putting a small lock of hair behind her ears – it was tied up, and still, some locks were cut loose.

“I’d love to.”

 


	5. Subjected to His Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the hunt, something happens.

The wind carried the smell of young daisies and berries. Thin pieces of sunshine ran through the leaves and branches, falling on the ground only in certain spots – she could feel the grass meander under her feet, the dew wetting her bare skin.

“Da’len” lately, it became rarer and rarer to see her father at home – Cyrvel spent most of his days gathering favors with the Elders at the Council. He was a good parent, especially to Aeryn; when she was younger, Cyrvel taught her how to use a bow and how to hunt properly. They used to do it more often, back then.

Aeryn tilted her head to his direction. She sat on the swing both built some good years ago; the ropes were beginning to weaken, she noticed.

“Yes, papa?” her voice was softer, lower.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t join you at the Grand Coronation.” He walked towards her, straight back and sorry expression. She used to get that a lot from him. The event had happened a few days back, but for her, all were still fresh in her memory.

“Others kept me company. I know you were busy.”

“Gerian tells me you gained the attention of some.”

“So did Nesiris, you’ll notice. I heard she spent most of the evening with some prince.”

“You’re being childish.” Cyrvel crouched in front of her, and Aeryn tried to look somewhere else. She knew she was, in fact, being childish.

“I’m not a kid anymore. You don’t have to worry so much.”

“You are not, yet act like one.”

“Everyone at the Coronation was very gentle with me. I met June.”

“And Fen’Harel.”

She looked at him with the corner of the eye. Finally, he got her attention.

“I already knew Fen’Harel.”

“They’re moving to their new kingdoms soon.”

“Yes, I’m well aware.”

“You won’t say goodbye?”

“There’s no need.” She sighed, looking at her feet. “We have an Eluvian. I can go visit them whenever I feel like it.”

“You can go, certainly, but what guarantee do you have they will receive you?”

The question got her by surprise. Indeed, she had none, only the trust that their friendship was enough to arrange another meeting.

“Do you need anything else, papa?”

“Gerian also told me that you were tracking down a wolf.”

“Yes.”

“I’d like to go with you, catch it. For old time’s sake.”

Aeryn raised her eyebrows, surprised with the request.

“I would be happy if you joined me.” She said, speaking only the truth.

“Wonderful. Let’s leave by dawn, tomorrow. We’ll have enough time to find it.”

___

The flames in the fire pit sang sweetly into her ears, moments before extinguishing itself. Far away, behind hills and mountains, she could see the sun beginning to rise, slowly, casting light upon what once was dark. A thick thread of smoke floated into the sky, when her father got out of his tent.

“It is set.” He said, cleaning his hands on his leather armor.

Aeryn kept herself busy sharpening the tip of her arrows meanwhile, making sure all would be precise and deadly.

“Did you bring the poison?” she asked, getting up and storing her arrows on the quiver.

“I didn’t get the time to make much, so be certain not to miss when you use it.” Cyrvel handed her a small moss-green flagon.

“Let’s hurry. If it rains, we’ll have no way of remaining to the track.”

And so they left the clearing, hoping the weather wouldn’t change. It took some time to find the wolf’s trail, but they got it. The footprints were already old, and, as if it couldn’t get worse, rain began to fall.

Between some rocks and pines, Cyrvel came with a suggestion.

“Winter is gone. When you met it, t’was probably going north, spend the spring.”

“Then north we go.”

The rain gave no hint of an ending. It kept pouring like a storm, but Aeryn was determined; she _was going_ to catch the wolf. Next, a lightning crossed the clouds with a thunder, and she stumbled on a large root. At last, she fell from the short hill, and got separated from her father.

A small stream cut through the arbors, making her get even wetter. A twig scratched open her armor, but her instincts told her to lie still. On the ground, she could see;

The wolf.

It was laid, just like her, eyes closed and slow breathing, sleeping. Aeryn got up, trying not to make any abrupt movements. The rain entered her clothes and soaked her whole, but she couldn’t care less. She got the bow and an arrow, sipping it on the poison her father gave her.

When she had a clear shot, something else moved.

Three whisps, red, blue and yellow. They flew, steady, around the wolf. All of them, conscious spirits.

The red touched it on the tip of its nose, making it wake. The wolf raised its head slowly, looking around, pacing calm; and found her.

Its eyes were golden and shiny, going through her like sharp blades. The wolf didn’t growl, didn’t move, and didn’t bother. Didn’t feel threatened. It kept looking though, almost like awaiting to see what she would do.

And she didn’t do _anything_. For some days now, Aeryn remembered the wolf and pictured her hunt. Now, it laid before her, not putting a fight. She just couldn’t do it.

Aeryn unhanded her bow, watching for a while longer. The whisps remained playing around the canine, which lowered its head again. Aeryn sighed, turning around to find her father, when a voice called her back.

“Not afraid, I see.”


	6. Swift and Cunning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stalker, a formal invitation, Gerian's overreaction and the memory of what happened at the Grand Coronation.

She knew that voice.

“Solas?” she asked, reaching for him. Sitting on a tree branch, Solas remained still like stone, facing her with a cunning smile on his lips. He looked nothing like before; no golden armor, no bone crown, no pelt cloak, just a regular armor and a staff, hanging from his back.

“For a moment, I thought you were going to shoot.” He laughed, crossing arms and waiting for her response. She felt, there was more difference than just mere clothing—he was sharper, wilder, freer. No chains holding back that time.

Aeryn blinked, getting her hair out of her face. The rain was still pouring, soaking her to her soul.

“You were _stalking_ me?” the idea was unnerving and made her shiver. All that time, she was being careful and cautious nothing was keeping track of her. Not careful enough, it seemed.

“No much more than you were stalking him” Solas pointed with his head towards the wolf, narrowing eyes.

“That isn’t exactly a relief.”

“The difference is, I was not pointing an arrow in your direction just a few moments ago.”

“How did you even know I was going hunting today? Father and I told none.”

“I _didn’t_ know. I found you, and wanted to see who your prey was.”

“You really must have a thing for me, then.” She joked, facing him directly.

“More than you think.”

“I must go” even though she yearned to stay with him a little longer, she couldn’t. Cyrvel must have been worried after her fall.

“Lady Aeryn, I deeply hope you can come visit me when you got the time.”

She chuckled lightly, facing down for just a second. There it was that part of him that made her feel like a foolish teenager again.

“Should I start calling you Fen’Harel as well?”

Even though she wasn’t looking, Aeryn knew he smiled with the suggestion.

“‘Solas’ is fine.” His voice grew lower by bits, as if he was starting to fear he would scare her away with some misplaced thought or prideful answer. “So, will you?”

“I don’t know where you’ll rule, my king.”

He giggled, coming down from the tree in a swift movement. In front of her, Aeryn saw how he was _in fact_ taller than her. She had to look up to see his eyes.

“East. The great city by the ocean. You’ll know where to find me by there.”

“Certainly. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She bowed quickly, turning and going.

She could almost touch the irony that danced in her head. Just one day ago, her father made her question the legitimacy of her relationship with Solas – now, she had the official invitation to join him at his new home.

___

“He did _what?”_ the surprise in Gerian’s voice was simply _too_ pleasing.

“He _invited_ me to go visit him.” Aeryn laughed, lying on her bed. Gerian sat on the open window, astonish-faced.

“I can’t believe this.” His hands went through his hair, and he looked at her. “What did he even see in you?”

Aeryn rolled eyes.

“Why do you have to make everything about this? We’re friends, just like you and me.”

“Oh, he’s _nothing_ like me.”

“True, he’s nothing like you.” She hugged her pillow, letting her bed swallow her even more. “He’s gentle, and wise, and gracious, and—”

“Ha-ha, very funny.”

She sighed, spying over her various blankets to see Gerian’s expression. Something in him was starting to change, she noticed. But so was in her. Since the Grand Coronation, Aeryn officially knew small pieces of her own were starting to become something else. She rolled on the bed, facing up. The wood ceiling faced back, brown and still.

“Have you ever liked someone, Gerian?” the question came out before she could think it through.

“Yes, obviously, haven’t you?” the response he gave got her startled. In truth, she’d had some interest in past men before, but didn’t know if a peculiar look she gave or a particular heartbeat skipped should count.

“Maybe.” It was the truth for her. Her face twisted into a slight frump, while her mind tried to define whether or not she had.

“Creators, you are interested in him!” Gerian jumped from the window with the exclamation, standing up with a nervous posture. Aeryn laughed.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Look at you, don’t even have the nerve to deny it!”

“I’m _not_ interested in him!” not entirely true.

“Yes, you are. He’s all you have talked about the past month, you _always_ get that creepy blush on your ears whenever you’re talking to him or simply about him—“

“What? I do not, what are you going on about?” she sat on the tip of her bed, raising her eyebrows to level the question.

“Just admit it. You’ve fallen for him.”

“Stop! Gerian, what has got into you? I as much mention his name you get all over yourself. And this time I _didn’t even_ have to mention his name.”

He exhaled loudly, softening his posture so he didn’t look so tense anymore.

“I merely think you deserve better.”

“Why, thank you, but there’s no need for so much worrying. Solas is my friend, and my question about liking someone had nothing to do with him.” She got up, crossing arms as Gerian lowered his head in apologies.

“I’m sorry. I crossed the limits. Again.”

“It’s fine, just… Don’t think about him anymore. I won’t bring it up.”

“I should be going.” He did not dare to raise his eyes to face hers. Like a puppy that’s made a mess, Gerian knew when to step back. He walked out of the room without saying anything else, tail between legs. Aeryn didn’t stop him. It was for the best, certainly.

And as the door closed, a cold drift came into her room, from the open window. The breeze played with her hair for a second and then flew around, spreading over multiple scents. She putted the fire out from the candles and saw that all the windows were now closed. In the half-darkness, she undressed to go to bed, folding her clothes and taking them to the armoire. As she opened the blue painted door of the wardrobe, a particular dress stared her back.

The white and golden silk beamed in the weak light, as it did during the ball. Seeing it triggered a lot of buried sensations and lost contemplations. She saw the grand ballroom once again, the hall filled with distinguished beauties and smells, people of all shapes and sizes. The band played in her ears, the sweetest of tunes made even sweeter with the company. She recalled the dancing as well. Until a certain hour, she would accept the invitation of any gentleman who called upon her. And then, her soul case belonged to only one.

Their ghosts skittered in the air as she remembered, swaying over the greyish marble and decorative rugs. During the dancing, she noticed Solas’s tight grip on the back of her waist, his piercing eyes looking to no one but her.

 _“I don’t think you’re supposed to face your dance partner.”_ She would say, fighting her cheeks not to grow red.

 _“Should I wait for someone to come and stop me?”_ He answered, his voice still fresh in her memory. Every second that passed his eyes grew darker and danker, devouring her from the inside. Her body and bones struggled to remain volatile and strong, for she felt like melting, no more different than clay in the heat.

Reminiscing about that made her legs shake. The subtlety in his actions, the arrogant yet selflessness in his ways, all drew her closer, like the sky calling for the eagles, the meadow calling for the stag – slowly, she began to see what Gerian meant.

Began to see he might be right as well.


	7. Under Her Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick dream with a message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is not really important for the rest of the story, so if you feel like skipping it, go ahead, you won't loose much. Still, I hope you'll like it just as I did!

_Eyes watching, longing, spying. Hands pulling, pushing, making it weight. Shadows devouring and swallowing, giant, taking her even deeper inside. Everything around was nothing. Although she couldn’t see nor feel, the smell kept growing, stronger, thicker. Young daisies and berries. Again._

_While reality began to make itself known, she felt the eyes fleeing, hiding from her. They were still there, though._

_“How did you get in here, girl?” she had never heard that voice before. It was feminine, hoarse, scratching her ears to come inside. The ground beneath her feet began to take form, grass, fresh, wet, green._

_Well, she didn’t know. “Where am I?” the voice laughed, grim, dry, moving from one point to another._

_“Why, you’re in my home.” The voice meandered closer, almost enough to touch._

_Trees rose before her eyes, twisting, leafless. Stone walls appeared as if they were always there, showing the enclosure to make her feel safer. Great dragon statues carved between the trees, grey and dead._

_“Is this a temple?” she looked around, lost. The scenery was familiar in its way, giving certainty of impermeability and stillness._

_“Yes.” A shadow lingered away, going up and down, right and left. Big, she noticed._

_“Will you allow me to see you?” the voice laughed again, louder and closer. Its answer didn’t come soon, considering._

_“I will.” It came closer, slowly, like a serpent crawling on the ground._

_Soon, she saw, a great dragon with golden scales and black eyes, staring down at her, wings open and claws exposed._

_She didn’t fear it. Not at first. The skies swirled white, above their heads. A storm was coming._

_“Do you know how I get out of here?” she sounded calm and stolid, even if confusion ate up her mind like termites in wood. “It must be some kind of mistake. I have no business in this place.”_

_“The ones who seek me rarely know why they do.” The dragon’s voice was beginning to soften, but its posture remained the same. “I shall offer justice where there’s none, peace to the troubled.”_

_“I do not seek justice.” The confusion became greater and greater. “The last thing I did was—”_

_“Go to bed?” the dragon chuckled, blinking slowly. “Well, child, if you do not seek my justice, then please, accept my lasting wisdom.”_

_While the dragon talked, she quietly tried to search for a way out. All the trees hid more walls and the walls hid more trees, like a never-ending labyrinth. When no exit was found, she turned, reaching for the golden dragon. It remained still, patient, wings now restrained, as if saying that not even by the air she would leave._

_“What would the hunter tell me if I asked what end does the deer take if it becomes too comfortable near a wolf?”_

_“It gets slaughtered.” She answered, hesitant._

_“Good.” The dragon looked up, eyes closed. Rain poured, furious, on them both. “The longer you keep that in mind, the farther you will go. Do not forget, child, for in the day you do, the wolves won’t think twice before tearing you apart.”_


	8. Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Griffons, man. Griffons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guys!  
> So, let's all remember when Solas said that griffons were once a kind of steed and how I thought "Well, that may be a good idea right". In the end, I think all went better than expected.  
> Oh, I also tried to find the Crossroads' original name according to the ancient elves, but found nothing. I don't think bioware has already declared it, but if you do know, just read with it! :)  
> And for those seeking a better description of Solas' temple, the place is where now stands Caer Oswin - I just love that view SO MUCH. I'll leave the link of an image if you feel like checking it out! Hope you like it!!
> 
> Caer Oswin (I do not own the pic) - http://i.imgur.com/ip03nCv.jpg

Going through the Eluvian was like crossing a thin barrier of silk – it didn’t hurt and was hard to feel it at all, and before she knew, she was already in the Crossroads. The trees grew sterile from the stone floor, forming shapes like bowls with its bare branches. Most of the elves to go there were peddlers – wanderers who traveled to every corners of Elvhenan, selling exotic spices and rare draperies. Nesiris accompanied her, claiming to wish to see the ocean.

Some temples were built in the Crossroads, serving as a shelter for pilgrims and those seeking peace and silence.

“Why are all of them open?” Nesiris’ voice woke her from her wonders, like a cold bath in an even colder day. She referred to all the Eluvians, glowing blue, keeping hidden all that lied in the other side. “We are in war.”

“Not for long.” Aeryn gave a quick look around, noticing the truth in her sister’s words.

They didn’t have to walk any longer than that. Over an altar, the silverite Eluvian stood shinning more than any other – it glowed more strongly as well. As they crossed the slight barrier, the sun greeted with its warmth and light. On the top of a hill, the tall grass swayed in the marine wind, the salt spreading the smell of fish and moss.

A couple of stairwells led down to a small village with docks and tiny houses, compared to the magnitude of Arlathan.

Both of them walked out of the mirror slowly and steady, appreciating the beautiful sight.  

“Madams” a man with a linen tunic and leather boots waved his walking stick in the air, getting their attention. He was shepherding nine old sheep, a few steps down the hill. “May I help you?”

Nesiris twisted her nose, waiting for Aeryn to answer.

“We are looking for Fen’Harel.” She said, walking towards him. The shepherd smiled, soft wrinkles forming in his forehead and around the mouth.

“The fastest way is to go by air.” He signed with his hands, facing the sky. “The woman in the village breeds the griffons for the temple. I’m sure she would happily lend you one, once she knows where you’re going.”

“Thank you, messere, I appreciate it.” She bowed and followed the path of stairs, Nesiris not taking long to catch her.

The smell in the village was even stronger. Most of the fishermen were selling their only merchandise, with some kids playing around with coconuts and large seeds. After they asked for directions, Nesiris and Aeryn found the griffon breeder.

The woman wore a black dress with some cheap jewelry, the grey hair tied up and the long ears pointing sideways.

“Are you the one with the griffons?” Nesiris hushed ahead, searching for the creatures.

“Well, I am. And who are the two lasses?” the woman kept a wooden pipe between lips, smoking patiently whatever herbs where in there.

“We seek a way to find Fen’Harel’s home. A man told us you breed the griffons for him.”

The woman looked her from the tip of her head to the bars of her dress, judging silently.

“That temple’s been busy lately. I  _do_  doubt you’ll find your king, but that’s not for me to say. You want the ride? You’ll have it. My lad will return soon, he’ll take you city ladies.”

Not much later, the young boy appeared with a worn out armor and no weapons. The breeder told him what must’ve been done, and he guided the way through the forest. Her home lied in the wilds, a large farm with harts but mostly, majestic griffons. All of the animals were big and healthy, with strong limbs and great feathered wings.

“Are you going for Fen’Harel’s blessing as well?” the lad asked while saddled one of the mounts, doing it as fast as he could.

“Blessing?” she repeated it, curious with the word.

“Haven’t you heard?” he stopped his work, standing up and preparing to tell the tale. “We suffered an attack a few nights ago. Human raiders or something. They carried strange staffs and gruesome monsters. Fen’Harel defended us, alone. The army watched with the rest of us, while Fen’Harel banished the humans. Something to see, I tell you.” The lad still seemed astonished, even just by remembering. “Can’t imagine someone like us having such a power.”

 Now, that was a new picture to be drawn. Aeryn knew of Solas’ power – he was, after all, one of the generals named royalty. That is not a thing given lightly, but still, she had never seen it, just heard the stories and rumors. Perhaps once she got in the temple, she would witness his might at work.

After a short while, the young boy was done with his job at saddling. He called two older riders to take them to the temple, since both the women had no experience flying griffons - or any other type of animal, to that matter.

From the air, all seemed smaller. The wilds, the ocean, the fishing vessels, the tiny houses made even tinier. The tenacious wind kept howling at her ears during the whole trip, whispering fine sentiments and making her anxiety grow – each time the wings went down, she knew she was closer to him. And that conclusion made her heart leap by bits. As of now, all to be seen was the mountain-chain, all green and white, with its beautiful forests way below, secluded by the thick fog that hoovered over the land. Regarding her heights, she could see a few separated temples and keeps, but none was as striking as  _that_.

The faded yellow walls rose from the ground, tall and resistant. Eight towers remained watching the in the distance, and the humble building around it pointed that some actually lived there. Pines, greenish and with barbed ends ascended from the bare ground, like spikes protecting the faithful.

Soon, the griffons landed, outside the temple. None of the elves in the hamlet appeared concerned with the city ones. Oh, but Nesiris  _did_  concern herself with  _them_.

“How can they live  _here?_ ” she leered around, as if searching for her galleries and libraries. All that the elves there had was their houses, little farms for grains and milk, and some inns for the pilgrims. Even the harts weren’t to her pleasing; “What poor animals! Have they never been washed?”

Aeryn chortled, rethinking the choice of bringing  _that_  sister. Not the wisest course of action, she realized.

“Why don’t we go inside? I’m sure the ones in there will be more like you.”

They weren’t.

Forasmuch they walked onto the great walls, the pilgrims seemed to get even more peculiar, according to Nesiris’ eyes. She assured to get her tongue shut while they walked – trying not to offend anyone for as long as they could – and the effort payed off. She didn’t get to a single fight. A real accomplishment.

 As they walked upstairs to enter the temple, a man who could be either a guard of a lackey approached them, straight posture and cold glance.

“Can I be of any assistance for you, my ladies?” his voice sounded dry and lifeless, Aeryn noticed.

“We came for Fen’Harel.” Nesiris answered, before her sister could even draw her lips open.

“Yes, so did all of them.” The lackey pointed with his head towards the big crowd, impassive as a doll.

“He invited us.” Aeryn smiled, the air around her being of pure calm and complacency.

The man shrieked, obviously not believing a word of it.

“She speaks the truth.” The one to say that wasn’t inserted in the conversation so far. A woman with mage robes and long hair stepped towards them, arms crossed and harsh expression. The hardness wasn’t towards her though, Aeryn noticed. “Fen’Harel has asserted me about his guests. I trust you wouldn’t want to displease him with you careless meddling, would you, Sundamar?”

The so-called Sundamar faced down, daunted. Clearly, the woman had a higher position than him at the temple, and he did not dare to draw a loosen word. And so he nodded slightly, walking away without saying a word.

“I apologize for this.” The woman got closer, perfect posture and soft-voiced. “Sundamar is always very… Protective, about who enters the temple. I ask you not to judge him too severely over that.”

Aeryn smiled, agreeing.

“I’m sure his intentions were the best.” She replied, looking the woman in the eyes. They were green. “My name is Aeryn, and this is—”

“Oh, I know who you are.” The elder cut through, a slight smirk crossing her lips. It disappeared soon enough. “You may call me Lierin, and I’m Fen’Harel’s first advisor. He trusted me to show you your chambers and be your guide throughout the villa. In the moment, Your Grace is busy with several audiences with the people, but once we’re done, I’ll guide you to the throne room.” Lierin smiled, turning her back and having the guards opening the high gates that kept the visitors from the interior.

Inside, the temple was even fairer. Steep columns roused from the rocky flag ground, creating arched beams with standards of the empire. She saw monks roaming around the structure, as the wayfarers and the few priests. Spying from the hall’s windows, she saw fields with harts and hallas and cows, even a stable for the griffons, all coexisting in peace.

Some flight of stairs upper, Lierin showed them their room. The antechamber was large and full of empty space, with two beds and desks, a fireplace by the left side.

“I’ll leave you to your settling. There are clothing in the armoires and paper with ink by the desks, in the case you want to write. Any letters will be sent immediately by our couriers, so if you want to send, just hand me and it will be arranged. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to take you to the throne room.” And she bowed and left, not saying anything any further.

“Now  _that’s_  a room.” Nesiris exhaled, walking to her bed. “It has even a balcony! How lucky are we?”

“Very lucky, it seems.” Aeryn whistled, impressed with the architecture. “I bet you are regretting not bringing anything with you now.”

“You have no idea, even with all these dresses. I do doubt your friend expects us to leave soon, look at this.”

She was right. Either Solas was that receptive with everyone, or he hoped they wound linger a little longer. For Aeryn, that was more than fine.

“I’m taking a bath. All that flying got me tired.” She panted, retrieving some clothes. “Then we’ll go to the throne room.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m very comfortable here. I’ll greet him later, if that’s all right.”

An hour later, Lierin came back, wearing a different robe and with the hair locks tied away. As they wandered through the temple’s corridors, Aeryn noticed how fast the sun had gone down. Just a few moments ago she was stepping out of the Eluvian, and now she was already going to meet with Solas. When Lierin opened the door that separated the rest of the temple from the throne room, Aeryn felt her heart was about to explode. A short line of people led towards an altar, where in the throne, Solas sat. Once again, he was different.

His face was hidden by a mask with a wolf’s façade, and his hair fell down straight into his hips. His robes were dark – somewhere between grey and blue – and his posture could not be more relaxed. When he saw her, his first reaction was to stand up.

“The audiences are over for the day.” His voice rumbled against the walls, and all left without saying a word. Once all in the room were Lierin, the guard and Aeryn, Solas approached. He still wore the mask, guaranteeing him the air of a superb smug.

Aeryn bowed when he got too close.

“You came.” Solas was surprised, as if he didn’t expected her to really come.

“You invited me. I could hardly say no.” so she smiled, staring him through his eyes.

“This calls for celebration. Lierin, send your fastest courier; I want all of the Evanuris here by tomorrow.” The servant agreed and left, fulfilling her master’s will. “And you” he called back to Aeryn, getting even closer “don’t worry, you’ll have  _plenty_  to keep you busy meanwhile.”

 


	9. Lingering Looks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lovable conversation between Solas and Lavellan <3

Every single one of the faces was hidden by masks – as was her own. The music played in that ball was different from in the previous; it appeared made for slow dances and soft moves, the kind of dance designed for being carefully watched and admired. She glanced over the ballroom, mind digressing about all the important characters present at the evening.

“I must say, _this_ is an event like no other.” Nesiris’ words crawled inside her ears, taking a few seconds to create roots.

“All the Evanuris are here.” Aeryn whispered, looking in their direction. Most of them were reunited at the same place, shielding their talk from the stranger and unwanted; Solas was amidst them as well. “It ought to be quite the celebration, for them to come all this way from their kingdoms so fast.”

Nesiris chuckled, hiding her face with a paper fan – not that she needed it, after all, she was also masked. Her face carried a fox mask, with pointy ears and pointy nose.

“I can’t tell who’s anyone from here. If the idea was subterfuge, I couldn’t have done better.”

“Oh, seriously? Their costumes are their patrons. Look, Falon’Din is the Crow, Dirthamen is the Bear, Solas is the Wolf and Mythal is…?” she intended to continue, but the word fleeted her tongue.

“The dragon.” Nesiris completed, awaiting for her sister’s realization to come to an end.

“How perceptive.” Aeryn recognized that voice as soon as it ringed.

“June!”

His face was darkened by a horned mask, one Aeryn did not decipher at first. The man smiled gently, bowing with courtesy.

“It has been some time, Lady Aeryn. I gather you didn’t spend the entire party uncovering our costumes?”

Aeryn giggled, bowing slightly.

“Your Grace, this is my sister, Nesiris Ashivera. We are guests of Fen’Harel.” Nesiris bended swiftly, clearly blushing with the smile June gave her.

“It’s an ultimate pleasure, my king.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my lady. Although, if it is not too much to ask, I would like to talk to Lady Aeryn, alone.”

“Not at all, Your Grace. Hopefully, we’ll have time to talk at a later date.” And so she nodded and left, polite as she was raised to be.

“Come, let’s walk the ballroom. I hear it is full of wonders.” He extended his arms towards her, and so they began to pace around the hall. “I believe you heard the news?”

“Of the Forgotten Ones’ exile? I did. You were there?”

“Yes. It was no different than a butchery, gruesome business. Still, most of the efforts payed off.”

“Most?”

“There _are_ things I’m not allowed to share with you, my lady. I fear that the fighting is no longer outside our borders, and maybe, we’ll not be the ones to cease it.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Not for tonight. Your host has asked me to bring you to him. We should not delay.”

Her skin got cold when she saw where they were going – the Evanuris. Even if they all seemed distant and grim, none implied to mind her there. Well, _one_ did.

“I think it would be wise to continue the discussion once _we_ are _alone_.” Falon’Din, the guide of the dead, didn’t sound very receptive of her.

“Oh, you old nagger, stop being so grumpy. You could do well with some new company.” The first one to defend her was Mythal, chuckling sweetly. She walked to Aeryn’s side, protective. “Especially if it is of such a delightful girl.”

She didn’t know what she had done to gain Mythal’s protection, but whatever was, had been worth it.

“I’m sorry, my queen, but your voice sounds too familiar. Have we met?” Aeryn asked, not worrying in hiding her expression – she still wore a mask.

“Why, we might have.” Her smile was warm like recent embers, the golden eyes staring back.

“I hear you’re rather skilled with a bow.” Andruil, the lady of the hunt, came near her, swaying hips and loosen torso. “Perhaps we can hunt together sometime.” Her face was secluded by a hawk’s beak, yellow and dark-brown.

“It would do me a great honor, Your Grace.”

“So polite.” Sylaise, with golden locks of hair and smooth face, smiled to her, gracious as a true queen. Her mask grew twisted in branches, symbolizing wood and trees. “Don’t you worry; my sister won’t mind bad words and chewing with an open mouth. Quite savage, she is. Though, I see, that is not your way. I’m glad I met you, child.”

“You seem to have heightened your approval with my brothers and sisters.” Solas’ voice made her shudder mildly, as if it was a cool breeze in a heated summer day. He pulled her apart from the crowd, making his words promised for only her ears.

“You _do_ have quite the family.” She giggled, glancing him through the wolf mask. It was the same one from before, the one he used to greet the people. It fitted him fairly well, she noticed. Solas laughed, looking down for one second.

“They’re not my real family. Even though, now it might seem like they are.”

“Where is your real family, then?” she hoped the question wasn’t too personal. Through his façade, Solas didn’t appear bothered.

“Why don’t we go outside? I’m sure both of us could use the fresh air.” With his right hand on her back, he guided them ahead, beyond the sizzling folks.

The greenish trees were all cautiously pruned, as the shrubs and flowered plants. Two gorgeous water fountains stood in the garden’s sideways, as well did the statues of wolves howling on simply lying down, calm and watchful - a pale gaze of the moon lit almost all, disregarding the lights of lamps.

“Should I still wait for an answer, Hahren?”  

 “I was born in a cold village to the north. Most of the settlements and other cities were miles away, and without the protection, it got ransacked and ravaged countless times. A lot of the folks moved out, the other part vanquished. I recall very few from there, but I’m partially sure my parents did not survive all the brutality that land suffered.”

“Ir abelas, Hahren.” Solas smiled, glaring over her.

“There’s no need to be. That time is little more than a distant dream for me.”

“And how you came to Arlathan? What made you Fen’Harel?” they sat on a bench, near the left water fountain – it sounded placid and soothing, good, considering the conversation.

“That’s an answer divided in two parts.” His posture was everything but serious, his back relaxed against the pond’s concrete. “The Forgotten Ones and Mythal.”

“How so?”

“The ones who seized that hamlet worked on the behalf of the Forgotten Ones. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have had the need to protect myself. It is the best way to learn something, when your life is clinging to it. My magic came raw and unshaped, like throwing water to the sky and expecting it to form images. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. With some experience, it began to gain form, control itself, became easier. Of course, I didn’t learn _all_ by myself, I had help.”

“I find hard to believe anyone in that village had much experience with magic.”

“So do I. Indeed, no one in that village assisted me. For them, I was no more than a pariah, an outcast. Even so, spirits of compassion and wisdom guided me, showing what must have been done. In few years, I was the only one with so much control over matter.”

“And now is where Mythal enters, I presume.”

“Yes. You must have wondered ‘when does the lady with horns in her hair gets to do something in this tale?’ So, I was almost a young man, when Mythal and Elgar’nan came to that small commune, followed by a never-ending army. As it happened, the leader raider’s compound wasn’t too far from there. Once I learned of their plans, I did everything under my power to join them. As you can imagine, my skinny body and dusted appearances did not impress any, but when Mythal saw with her own eyes what wonders I could do, bending matter over my whim, she did not think twice before dragging me along. Elgar’nan wasn’t so happy with her decision, but in the end, he was just as glad as her that I came.”

“And so you went to Arlathan, a new hero with an endless path extended before him.”

“So I did.” He laughed, noticing how that story sounded like a fanciful fairy-tale. Even so, Aeryn did not dare to doubt a single word of what he said. “When I got there, most of the Evanuris were no different than I was – I mean, almost. Solas was still the rescued one, the commoner, the one who would perish when his first task was given. Afterwards, all of us succeeded in whatever ways we could, becoming what we are today.”

“What about Fen’Harel?”

“Fen’Harel came later. An insult I took as a badge of pride.”

“You must really have done something awful, Trickster.”

“Most of the Evanuris felt intimidated by my way of solving things. I was the only who believed not all needed to end in bloodshed. Talking your way through the others, using your cunning and expertise to outwit the weaker, can be just as useful as drawing your staff to set one on fire, or your sword to behead the feeble. That gave me the freedom I bare today.”

“Is that why you didn’t join them in banishing the Forgotten Ones? Because you were free amidst them as well?”

“The Forgotten Ones enjoyed my dexterity, and so made me welcome among them. Still, for them I was no more than a jester, the tool to remove their boredom. I had no quarrel with them, and my brothers and sisters understood that. So, yes, that’s partially why.”

“You know, Solas, I noticed you don’t keep slaves in your temple. Is that because of your past?”

“No. I simply believe being born from the wrong womb should not define the rest of a life designed for submission and servitude.”

“I’m starting to gather a lot of respect for you, Hahren. I do admire what you’re doing.”

Solas smirked tenderly, glancing her with the wolf’s eyes.

“Has anyone told you how lenient you get dressed as a halla?” Aeryn chuckled, just reminding she was still dressed as an animal.

“Sweet talker.”

“I’m starting to notice how you’re becoming more and more cordial when near me. Is my title not scaring you off?”

“I have not thought of you that way.”

“But I’m still one of the Evanuris, Da’len. All in that room would give me fortunes and women if I just spoke the word.”

“They might, but you’re not like them.”

“Am I not?”

“No, you didn’t make me fear you a single time since we met. You don’t want another disciple.”

“And what do I want?” he leaned closer, but Aeryn didn’t move.

“A friend.”


	10. Ashes to Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, three different adventures that will impact deeply further in.

“I must admit, my lady, I was rather surprised to hear your invitation.” Aeryn’s voice was cut by the quick sip she took from her tea-cup. The taste of the mint wasn’t too strong, mixing among the sugar and heated water.

“We didn’t have nearly enough time to talk, last night.” The smile Mythal gave her was as warm as before, cheeks going up and eyes stretching. The brown hair remained full and short, two pairs of horns pointing up. Differently from before, she didn’t wear costume nor armor, but lightened robes of some thick material, maybe wool. “I’ve been told you arrived a few nights from now.”

“Yes, my sister and I got here not too long ago. Everyone has been incredibly welcoming.”

“You find that, a noble girl, even without the slaves?”

Aeryn smiled, docile, hiding a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Especially without the slaves.”

“Well, you are one of a dying kind. Most who face the Dread Wolf’s ideals of freedom reveal themselves quite against his unique way of thinking.”

 Aeryn chuckled, hearing the new name. That was a first.

“The Dread Wolf?”

“Why, yes, it’s how he is called amidst the ones who despise him.” Mythal chuckled along, crossing legs and reclining her back on the chair.

“Despise?” the word fell deep unto her, solid and heavy. “That’s a strong word.”

“And a strong feeling. Exactly why I chose to use it.”

“Regardless, I’m glad I am here.”

 “You know, I wish we’d met sooner, but sadly, my pledge was to remain south until things calmed down.”

The west sun had already begun its way down, leaving the skies in a yellow-blue medley. Clouds changed colors like a mistress changes dresses – orange and white, swirling from one to other. While the balcony was shaded by flourish bindweeds, a good amount of all the radiance was led astray, not bothering any of the ladies.

A day had passed since the ball, and all of the Evanuris were still at Fen’Harel’s temple, not hurrying much to come back to their own kingdoms – Nesiris _did_ find that strange, after all, why would newly-made kings and queens delay to return to their duties?

“Is the south in turmoil?”

“Oh, all the empire is in turmoil.” A shadow crossed the elder’s eyes, as if she regretted saying that. She tried to dissemble the thought, moving on with the subject. “June did talk with you. I trust he didn’t leave you terrified with his theories of war and betrayal?”

“June showed himself very concerned about me not apprehending the wrong meaning behind his words.” In her mind, Aeryn knew that if she pushed in the right places, Mythal would come to slip another secret. “I _do_ recall him saying something about the fighting being within our borders.”

“I always enjoyed his way to pass warnings on.” She chuckled, drinking from her cup.

“Warnings?”

Mythal raised eyes, gazing her with the two goldish orbs, analyzing, studying, deciding.

“From what June began to share, I doubt I’ll hide it from you much longer than that.” Her voice came hoarsen, discerning from all the other times, reassembling something else.

“What _is_ happening?” Aeryn laid her cup over the table, uncrossing legs and bending forward. Mythal reconsidered, looking inside the room before drawing her lips open again.

“Remain in this temple, and you’ll be safe. There’s a reason the Dread Wolf invited you to be here.”

 “Which is?”

“I hope you can visit me in the days to come. I get lonely in such vast lair, particularly now, when Elgar’nan rarely comes to see me. I deeply appreciate your company, my girl.” And so she got up, making mention to leave. Aeryn stood though, hopeful there was more than simply another invitation.

While standing on the doorway, she could almost touch Mythal’s desire to say more, but a stronger string kept her quiet. “Child, beware of your family while the skies are clear. There’s a big storm to come and, for them, there will be no shelter.”

___

Oh, how she had missed the hunting grounds. The thrill, excitement, all that made her feel alive was there, growing every single time she went. As the leafs wavered with the wind, the soil felt more and more soft. She ran, leaping over rocks and prominent roots, not daring to land her feet for too long. And, for her surprise, Andruil chose to join her. No matter how many times she went hunting or whomever accompanied her, none would reach Andruil’s level. They fleeted like wild animals, born savage, never being noticed until it was too late. With the nightfall, the flat became even more unpredictable and inhospitable, throwing signs of its endless perils.

In the darkness, most of their preys were also hunters, switching papers without knowing.

The scent of wet fur and lifted dust filled the air, followed by grunts and groans, the arrows piercing deeper and opening through the flesh. An old bear, walking on its final days, was the hunted one. It disregarded the weighted years, giving the fight a youngster would, but lacking the nimbleness. Both the huntresses hawked from afar, scrupulous and watchful, not daring the audacity of forgetting it was still a bear, and still dangerous.

Tired and all-consumed, the bear didn’t move much. Its legs soon failed to keep it standing, and so it fell, losing to one of the sides. When Andruil crouched over a rock, Aeryn realized the last hit was about to be lain.

“If you know where to hurl, one arrow will do.” The huntress was cautious to restrain her voice to a lower level, seeing the absence of need to warn the animal of where they stood. “Wanna’ try?”

Aeryn pulled one arrow from the quiver, slowly placing it over the bow. She reached for the string, targeting with both eyes opened – a whole bear would be impossible to miss, but that certain point, the space between jaw and neck, that was meant to be a challenge. If she triumphed, the bear would have a clean death and hardly pose any hardship for them to do the rest. On the other hand, if she missed, the animal would receive a charge of adrenalin and its first reaction would be to fight for his life, bringing on an unnecessary trouble.  

Her fingers released the arrow. The thin wood-made think hurled on the air, howling like an eagle that just set flight.

In the end, the bear felt nothing. They both saw, the arrow cleaving through bones and muscles, cutting to make it painless. “That was one fine shot.” Andruil’s compliment felt like all she could’ve asked for, making her heart race itself.

Both the women walked over the bear, evaluating which goods they could make out of it. While the most experienced stole from the carcass whatever she thought useful, Aeryn’s mind ate up with slight guilt and complacent pride. She impressed a queen, an authority whom had noticed her, approved of her ways. Corrosive ideas kept growing from there, fighting amongst humbleness and hubris.

Andruil got up, a bloody sack full of all she judged utile. Her amber skin glowed with water, from sweat and the drizzle, the eyes sharp as spiked blades, and in that not-lasting moment, Aeryn thanked the Creators for not being born in a bear’s pelt.

___

He accompanied with his sight, from the war room’s window, the moment Aeryn and Andruil returned from their hunt. Sundamar, the keeper, had given him the word when they left, seeding a justified worry to let her go without supervision; Andruil _was_ mighty and wouldn’t let any beast near them, but wasn’t the beasts that terrified him.

“The peace talks have failed, Lethallin. Maybe you should turn your gaze upon something else.” Mythal’s voice woke him from his digressing, but didn’t hold his attention for long.

“Such as?”

“Such as which path will you walk if the worse becomes the real.” She sounded motherly as always, approaching him in a slow pace.

“The one I always do.”

“You are the one who walks alone, but now you worry for somebody else’s path as well. You can’t keep her here forever.”

No, he couldn’t. Solas was wise to see the truth in that, but was lost enough to try to change it.

“I’m buying time.” It was the conclusion.

“For?”

“What they want is becoming sturdy. With time, I’ll be able to enlighten all the paths before me. That’ll be…” he peeked over his shoulder, finding Mythal not too happy with his reply “Suitable.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing, my friend. I’ve read this tale many times, and I pray none of your paths will ever cross. You don’t need a new crusade.”


	11. His Unbecoming is Made Known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gift and a stroll in the village - what could possibly happen?

Due to the blend weather and its perpetual fainted winds, Aeryn found herself with little choice but to draw on an ethereal type of clothing – she wore her legs out, hair tied up, skin spilling out water by the minute. By the stables, docile harts kept her company, steady and calm, seeming to share her uneasiness at that hot spring day.

“I hoped to find you here.” Said Solas, almost as if appearing out of thin air. He didn’t look troubled over the weather, much less with her surprised expression to perceive him there.

Aeryn sat herself over a wooden bench, under the barn’s shadow. She restrained a quick smile from showing, but her voice revealed the happiness to see him. “It was difficult for me to stay within walls with such a heat taking over everything.”

“Where is your sister?” he came closer, slowly, wan eyed.

“We received a courier this morning. Nesiris’ presence was requested back home, and so she returned.”

“Should I expect you to leave so soon as well?”

_So soon._ He acted as if it was nothing. Even with the days flying by, ephemeral, she knew a lot of time had passed since she first set foot on the temple. Spring had come and begun its way astray, leaving room for the incoming summer, and still, Solas seemed to think her abode would be even longer, perhaps permanent.

“Yes, I’m intending to depart by the morning. With so much going on, my family would like to see me at home, and besides, Mythal has invited me to visit her as well.”

“Your time here has been short-lived, then.” A shade of disappointment crossed his darkened eyes, making her heart pinch and pound, slightly broken to go, and her head fight itself not to renounce her departure.

A hart, tall and mighty, paced around them, bronzed-fur and long antlers aiming to the blue skies. The long paws made it seem like it didn’t weight anything, when the animal peeked at them. Aeryn looked back, searching at all the corners of her mind to find something to continue the conversation and make him stay longer.

“Are you alright?” his voice awoke her, turning her to find him with a worried expression. “You’re… Grimacing.”

“I was just entertaining myself think of how powerful you’d look mounted on one of these.” She pointed with her head, laughing, ignoring the new-born blush over her own cheeks and ears.

“It must have been quite the terrifying picture, for you face to contract like that.”

“For who sees you coming, maybe.”

“I—hum” his lips were drawn open, but the words didn’t leave it at first. “I have a gift for you.” He stepped back, giving her space to stand up. “Please, follow me.”

As they walked in the castle, Aeryn noticed a disparity in his ways – how he walked, how he moved, all seemed too tense for someone as easygoing and cocky as Solas. She had seen that in other places; for instance, when Gerian said something he regretted and didn’t move on from it, or when Nesiris found out she whispered her own secrets while she slept, and spent a whole season as husky as a statue. That was the aspect of embarrassment and harsh bewail, and the realization of that made her wonder what made Solas’ stance change so quickly for something of that nature.

He stopped walking when both reached a closed door.

“Your gift is inside.” His voice grew colder, wearier, and a sparse barb of fear bit her stomach. She knew Solas wouldn’t harm her, or at least she hoped. Her hand drew the doorknob down, pulling the room open. She could feel the pressure her muscles ate not to shake, legs to arms.

Thin threads of light kept the room from full darkness, revealing the close stone walls guarding lots of furniture covered by white sheets. She entered in a heavy stride, curious and cautious to see what lied at the end – she could feel Solas’ body beside her, warm and stiff, stout, accompanying her gait by a short distance. At the bottom of the chamber, a mirror leaned against some covered-up fitment. An Eluvian.

“It is yours.” There was no agitation is his tune, like still waters, waiting for something to make it turmoil again. She turned to find his gaze laid upon the mirror, his body just a few inches from hers. “Here.”

He handed her a small and black rock, one that reminded the texture of a samite and the shine of an onyx. Two grey runes were carved on it, a phrase.

_A key to open her path._

“I thought you might make use of an Eluvian of your own. It’s quite a trip to get here, with griffons and all. This is the only key.” She stared down at the rock again, discerning what feelings to express.

“You had an Eluvian made” she started, careful, placing the right words in the right places. “Only for me?”

“Yes.” The answer did look as simple as that. “I hope it encourages you to come often. You don’t need an invitation.”

“I’m really thankful, Solas. It’ll be hard to resist the temptation to come here as it is made possible.”

“I would rather hear you would perish to such decoy.” His smile warmed her chest, making her smirk.

“Well, I might.”

“Let me take you to the hamlet tonight. A proper farewell.” He got even closer, glaring her deep in the eye. “There’d be no greater honor.”

Aeryn blinked, forcing herself to stand her ground. “You and your honeyed words.”

“May I take that as a yes?” a pinch in his voice sounded profoundly eager and optimistic, a rare event for him.

“You may.”

 

___

A hurrying waitress passed by her, carrying an old tray with mugs and dishes – her body moved altogether with the tune, joyful and cheered, as the costumers would vainly try to sing along. Aeryn’s sight began to dizzy itself; the shimmering ground twisted while she laughed and hiccoughed, ecstatic from the high doses of ale. Solas sat by her side at the counter, in a not much better picture, “Is the air getting thinner?” his voice was a hot whisper, close, making her back shudder lightly with the incoming chill. “I think it is getting thinner.”

“Then maybe you should stop drinking.” She blinked strongly, trying to focus on something. “What kind of brew is this, I can barely feel my body.”

“And you say _I_ should stop drinking.” His laughter was sweet, gentle to her ears, making her body almost swoon without even noticing.

The atmosphere grew heated by her skin, the blood running more staid and warm, scraping soft tingles on her limbs – her back arched forth when she stretched, pretending not to heed the lingering look Solas gave her by doing so. “Join me outside.” It was all that he said before getting up and walking the door. At first, the words didn’t sink; the world seemed to go slower and smoother, all the sensations taking longer to adjust to the new reality. She got up and languidly attempted to accompany him.

The short balcony didn’t gather a lot of room – two tables occupied part of it, displayed by the railing – and soon she found that Solas had leaned himself against the fence, never minding her there.

“I need to tell you something.” Aeryn noticed how his pitch of voice was sounding soberer by the minute, but she knew he was as well shaken by the alcohol. She got closer, but apparently not enough. Solas turned his head to face her, before continuing “It’s a secret.” Her feet stumbled a little to approach, but she managed to keep standing up all the time. When inches divided the air between them, he inclined her way, hushing “Can I? It’s important.”

“You don’t need to ask, Solas.” She felt herself smiling, as her body yearned for him to get even closer. “What is the secret?”

“The secret is…” he tried to continue, a delightfully treacherous smirk pounding on his lips “Aeryn, I–” his voice was cut by a sigh, mouth opening to begin again “I think you are the most beautiful woman in all Elvhenan.”

Her heart raced; face growing red with embarrassment and timidity – but never backwardness.

“O-oh?” Aeryn didn’t intend to shutter, but his so-called secret got her with guard down. “You think that I am?”

“I am certain of it.”

“You seem very sure of yourself.”

“I am.”

“You think about this often, then?”

“Amidst other things.” She now realized how both voices were now downing to a lower level, intimate, exclusive – the next was a mutter, almost impossible to hear. “But I did spend a lot of time in this one, particularly.”

“Oh, other things? Such as?”

“Such as how you are skilled with a bow—” closer again, his breath mixed with hers, a white fog in the cold night. “And how lucky I am for ever crossing paths with you.”

A fiery shiver made her look down, not bearing to hide her own goofy smile. In a second, she caught herself praying to the Creators he would lean in even closer and touch her, feel her, give a meaning to those words. Instead, he closed his eyes, touching his forehead in hers.

She didn’t dare to fight it, and so, closed her eyes as well, tasting how good that moment felt in every way she could expect – soon, she was beginning to loose herself to him, when a sad mumble brought her back. Not for a moment Aeryn thought Solas would say those words, especially about her, and when he did, she felt like her chest would break open with hope and anxiety;

“You will be my undoing.”

 

 


	12. Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerian gets to see Aeryn again, after so long.  
> And a letter.

She lost herself in the ivory ceiling, musing at the beautiful historical portrayal of elves riding varghests and harts, followed by armies of phoenixes and quillbacks, marching towards the enemy’s hordes – Aeryn loved the elven design of picturing epic moments of tales and life, all sublime and exalted, making the told yarn last forever.

“We had it restored while you were away.” Her mother gave a candid smile, warm, sitting by her side with a cup of tea between fingers. “You always had a taste for it.”

“It’s prettier than I remember. This hall, it brings me back to a different time.” She felt her eyes lowering towards the floor, weary. “Things were simpler back then.”

“Your sister enjoyed her time at Fen’Harel’s temple. What about you, my girl? I haven’t heard any compliments or complaints from you yet.”

A glimpse of Aeryn’s last night on the eastern coast crossed her mind, her heart flickering and aching from the longing to go back. “It was indeed pleasing. I hope to return, once things become more stationary.”

Her mother chuckled, touching shoulders lightly.

“Oh my, that temple must be something for you to desire to remake you way back so soon.” Shavra blinked, hiding a smirk with the cup of tea. “Do you intend to visit Gerian before you leave again?”

Aeryn felt her back tensioning, but could do nothing about it – the reminder she didn’t go to visit her closest friend was enough to make her voice husky with worry and guilt. “Yes. How has he been, mother? It’s…” the words fleeted her tongue, her mind going back and forth with thoughts of liability “Been a while.”

“I hear he is engaged with some city girl – a counselor’s daughter. His family doesn’t want to rush the wedding, though.”

“Oh? Good for him. It was about time he found someone to warm his heart.”

“And his bed. What about you, Da’len? Has none caught your eye?”

Her chest smoldered, fiery, when the thought sank in. “There’s a lot out there I aim to see still, mother. For me, the hour has not come.”

“Well, why not see all of the world’s wonders by someone’s side?” she chuckled before continuing. “With a warm heart and a warm bed.”

“Have you and father never thought about travelling? You know, while there’s time.”

“Dear, there’ll always be time. One day, we might.”

_One day might not come, mother._

___

“I was quite astonished to hear from you, after so long.” Even when so long passed, Gerian remained the same – his freckled face _was_ becoming dimmer, and his hair was shorter than last time. “So, tell me; how’s your boyfriend?”

Aeryn rolled eyes, crossing her arms and walking faster. “Move on from it, Gerian, it is no longer funny.”

“Oh, it was _never_ funny – it was true. Still is.”

“Well, since you have such an enlightened insight over my relationships, why don’t you share all the arrangements of your wedding?” his face faded to a slim pale, sad and vexed.

“You heard.”

“I did. See, I am happy for you – just think you could have written me or something, allow me to know about this from _you_.”

“Ah, like you did? I don’t need your complaints about _my_ absence, since you were the one who left! You were gone for months, Aeryn, and didn’t think to write me _once_ , and now you want to turn the table?”

“I _wanted_ to write you, I just—“

“Spare me of your apologies; I have no use for them. What is done is done, none of us can change that, so please, let’s move on with this and pretend it didn’t happen.” He continued walking, letting her feel the guilt consume her slowly, like tamed flames in wetted hay.

“I _am_ sorry, Gerian, whether you care or not – even so, I must leave again, and I fear this is the last you’ll hear from me for some time.”

“Great, go then. It’s all you do anyway.” His back was turned on her, shrieked in anger and unsettlement.

“I don't even deserve to be looked in the eye during this farewell?”

He said nothing. Aeryn watched, wistful, while her friend walked away from her, showing how their friendship had been reduced to not much more than ash while she was away.

_I am sorry, my friend. I hope you’ll soon notice there’s more going on than this simple wrangling._

___

_“Lethallin, she has come this morning._

_Her looks weren’t too good – she seemed dispirited and crestfallen, and I didn’t dare to ask why. I will keep her within my walls while you make use of the time given to you. I know this is a path hard to walk, but beware that our hearts will always be with yours. I will try to update you of Elgar’nan’s reports as soon as I’m able, so please, act accordingly. There’s no way to tell how long we will be able to cover these clashing under sheets, but know you your treasures are safe – don’t forget to burn this letter once you’re done, they’ve gotten even our own shadows to spy upon us, but guard every word of it carefully._

_There a sanctuary in the southern deserts; it lies in an oasis, far from any city. Its sentinels have already started their slumber, so if you move quietly, you’ll find that there’s no finer place to access the Void. Do not forget to scatter the shards once you’re done – that place must remain untouched. It is called Solasan, a gift you didn’t receive._

_Beware of stalkers. Tell no one where you’re going. I will expect a raven with your response by the passing of the four seasons, do not delay. Keep all your Eluvians closed while you’re gone, and only a trusted one to supervise they remain that way._

_My friend, I do not know if this is the right trail for you to follow, but I pray for your own good._

_Once this is done, come visit us. We can have herbal teas in the wilds like we used to, even knowing you despise it. Your friend will be missing you, I can see in her eyes she already does._

_May you walk only in the light. May you endure.”_

\-- Unsigned letter received in a rainy morning, Temple of Fen’Harel.


	13. Unbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sweetest of dreams in the beginning and yet another warning for Aeryn to uncover.

_His hands touched her skin, tempted but controlled, as his breath neared her neck. Desire swayed on her mind, back and forth, as his scent would gladly enter her nostrils to make her feel safe – cinnamon and mint, hot tart balms to keep her there. Amid the midnight woods, the wilds would bounce and sing, calm and harmonious, placid and tranquil, soothing. His husky prattles pulled her closer, a treacherous beckon to a trap that she would never escape. Even so, she allowed him to allure her in, impetuous, down a path she knew had not a way back. She got to raise her fingers, carving them in his tunic – his body receded slightly, as he seemed more fearful than her._

_“Why are you so afraid?” she heard her voice come out, yearning, getting closer before he tried to flee. “What do you fear so much?”_

_“I mustn’t tell.” She smelled the fennel in the air, fresh anise ready for the sweetest of teas. His eyes were closed not to show her his anxiety and smooth despair, soft tune to keep both calm. “Not yet.”_

_“When?” he regarded to answer, his chest soon to touch hers. The tip of his fingers swooned on her cheeks, tainted brushes for the purest of canvas, letting more endearment come out then he should._

_“I will return. Then.” His lips graced her jaw and chin, rousing her body in tantalized bait. Her ribcage pounded in longing, a quick moan she should have kept inside, food for the starved, water for the thirsty, wood for the flame._

_“And so I will await.”_

___

 

She watched, quietly, as Mythal attended to every remnant, peddler and pilgrim who’d had the gut to approach her, seeking justice and auspices. While sitting on a lonely stone bench, she treasured the way adopted by the queen to support her own people, a motherly figure that would look after them, if the cause was just. The grand arena stood in peace, leering from the wilds at those whom claimed reason for themselves.

Aeryn crossed legs, feeling the unrest flow through her body along with her blood, making her move on her seat – none appeared to have noticed her there, standing silent as she waited for the current trial to be over.  When the huge yellow-green high dragon moved next to her, she felt her gaze turning. The creature was great, majestic, overseeing all, as protective as Mythal was; it didn’t seem bothered with her there, since its full attention was directed towards the royalty, the master.

The last time she had seen such a huge beast, she was not much more than a shemlen, a child with a loosen tongue and loosen mind – but she recalled, the colossal creature in colorful scales and glacial eyes, staring down at her as it was tamed, a gargantuan event for all Arlathan to attend and muse. She remembered, the sorrowful feeling that the mesmerizing beast triggered, showing how even its power and might had been subdued. But that dragon, the one next to her, was nothing like the other; it was there by full sanction, free will, not because it had been broken and bound, chastened and softened for the greater amusement, and she found admiration in that.

As the sun went down, most of the faithful left the arena, walking in a slow and steady pace – she noticed how most of them bended the knee for the dragon before leaving, a gesture of ultimate respect. And as the reminiscent crowd began to diminish, she left as well. The path walked to return to the temple was full of color, with flowers and mushrooms and giant trees that ascended from the ground, cutting way through the streams. Most of it was lightened by sentinels who would escort them back to the citadel, acting as a defense for those who could not stand their ground any longer. Waterfalls warbled in the distance, along with crickets and owls living above her head, hankering to watch and learn, fleeting and chasing each other for the natural order of things to be complete.

The road broadened and stretched before her, moonlit leaves kissed her bare skin while she passed through. Wisps and other unshaped spirits appeared as in stirrings of energy lingering in the woods, colorful shades that chortled and giggled and sang in tunes of happiness and freedom. When the frore water of the river swallowed her feet in the form of a starving fountain, a faded blue glimpse called onto her in sorrowful words, a heavy luring to steal her from her path.

Aeryn approached in a wary stride the suspicious flare without any forehand questioning.

“She hopes there won’t be another muster, but prays every night doth might lead her back hereafter. He hopes she’ll understand but fears she won’t. Time has bestowed a gift upon them, but neither shall make use of it. She will amble afar from him, preying along the crows lost amidst hatred thoughts, and he will say reason shadows his steps, for pride is all he hath gathered.” In the prophetic song, the metallic and weary voice forecasted the sound that echoed between stumps and trees – attempting to near the ethereal being, Aeryn noticed how it ignored her, strolling around as if alone.

“My child?” she heard Mythal’s summoning while the spirit kept gaining distance, singing other words designed for other ears. She turned to find Mythal caged in a worried expression, but a quick adumbration crossed her eyes meanwhile. “What do you seek so far from the roads?”

“Forgive me, Your Grace. The sweetest descant had stripped me from my path. If you reached me just a few seconds ago, I’m sure you would have mused it as well.” She verged upon the elder, feigning innocence to cover curiosity. “But I will be more aware to where my feet lead me next time.” Mythal chuckled with her answer, taking a little longer to answer.

“Do be more cautious. These woods hold strange spirits even I dare not to cross – they are the worst of all, gloating at us for our ignorance and lack of knowledge.” A sentinel escorted them back to the trail, not drawing a word to any of the women. “Oh, for they have seen the lines we have not yet written, and the future is no more than the past for such creatures. Do not fool yourself, girl, your path is already full of perils as it is for you to wander off like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I'm really sorry for taking so long to move with the story, a lot kept me from my virtual reality. Even so, I hope some of you who are still reading enjoyed it!


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